


Look How Thyme Flies

by kitkatboi



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Friendship, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatboi/pseuds/kitkatboi
Summary: Master Attendant Basil recounts her journey to becoming a Master Attendant and Guild Leader.
Relationships: Black Tea/Milk (Food Fantasy)
Kudos: 1





	1. I'm A Mess

**Author's Note:**

> yes, this is a repost from a long, long, l o n g, time ago, but I remembered how much joy it brought me just by writing it and although it's cliché in a lot of places, I still really like this concept. May or may not be continuing it one day, but for now, have the first few chapters again :)

“Make sure you don’t over do it, see?” I twisted the frying pan so my Apprentice Attendant and fellow guild member, Jin, could see what I was doing. “Burning things is _not_ fun. Let me tell you, I burned like ... fifty bajillion things and nearly burned down the entire guild hall one time because I was burning things left and right.”

Jin laughed, “How on earth did _you_ become a Master Attendant? All your stories involve you messing up horribly and then getting saved by everyone else.”

I shrug, “Well, that’s how it simply started. I went through a lot over the time it took to become a Master Attendant.” I knit my eyebrows, trying to recount the exact steps, “First there was deciding whether or not to be a chef…”

“Umm, Basil.”

“And then, ‘Open a restaurant!’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun!’ they said. But honestly that was like, the hardest thing on earth, no … in the _universe_ if you ask me.”

“... Basil?”

“Then there was the ‘all good chefs need Food Souls’ thing with Olivia coming out of nowhere … And then Ichi, that son of a—”

“BASIL, PAY ATTENTION!”

I look down and realize I overdid it, exactly what I said _not_ to do, then quickly shut off the stove and rush over to the sink to drown out my failure.

Jin tsks disappointedly beside me, “You are a weird Master Attendant, you know that?”

“You should’ve seen me back in the day … ” I say half-jokingly, leaving the pan in the sink and shutting off the water. ( _I’ll have Jin wash it later._ _That’s what he gets for making me burn it._ ) “I was _worse_.”

“Oh God, do tell just how much worse this could _possibly_ get,” Jin groans. “Seriously, why are you even the guild master if you’re such a mess?”

I raise an eyebrow.

“W-Well, y’know!” He fumbles for a way to redeem himself, “Even _you_ talk about how much of a mess you are, it only makes sense that I question your authority!”

I pause, continuing to glare at him just so he feels threatened. Then I nod approvingly, “I like that. ‘Stick it to the man’, ‘check your facts for yourself’, that kind of mentality will do well in _my_ guild.”

“Th-Thank you, Master Attendant Basil,” Jin responds stiffly.

I laugh and wrap an arm around his shoulders, ushering him into the guild’s mess hall and away from the mess we just made, “Alright, then. If you really want to know how yours truly became a guild master _and_ a Master Attendant, let me tell you a little story … ”


	2. Fresh Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basil arrives in Gloriville, but things aren't looking too good ...

“I hope this is Gloriville or I am in  _ so _ much trouble … ” I muttered as I got off the train. It was a nine-hour trip from my hometown to Gloriville and although it was quite enjoyable (the food being particularly divine~), I’d rather be on solid ground.

I look around for a station sign, something to signify I’m in the right place, but I’m way too short and I can’t see over anyone. ( _ Curse my stupid genes …  _ ) I attempt to make my way through the masses, but for some reason, the station’s been clogged.

“Please stay inside the station!” I hear from somewhere up ahead. I stand on my tip toes and jump up and down to get a glimpse of the scene up front.

A porter in a neat uniform is standing on top of a cart loaded with luggages. He waves his arms frantically as other porters and train workers block the station’s doors. “There have been reports of a Fallen Angel attack nearby!” The porter shouts. “We have been instructed to hold all departing trains and keep everyone inside! Please stay calm and authorities will arrive to deal with the problem shortly! Thank you for your understanding!”

…  _ Fallen angels? _

The crowd around me begins to get antsy and I realize that these “fallen angels” are no laughing matter.

“Excuse me.” I tap the shoulder of the man standing beside me, “What are ‘fallen angels’?”

The man, either choosing to ignore me or simply hard of hearing, begins shouting about how he’s gonna be late for an important meeting and the feelings of the crowd turn sour to match.

“I have food to deliver and I don’t get paid if it’s even a  _ minute _ late!”

“Where are the Master Attendants when you need them?!?”

“Some of us have places to be y’know!”

“I WANNA SHOUT TOO!  _ AAAAAAARGH! _ ”

The train workers desperately try to hold the crowd back and keep them under control. “Please! This is all for your safety!” The porter, still standing on the mountain of luggage, is barely heard over the uproar of the unruly crowd. “You can leave as soon as the problem is addressed by the proper authorities!”

“Cheez-it’s crusts … ” I groan, watching the chaos from the back of the crowd. There’s absolutely no way to get through this.  _ Unless … _

I weigh my options carefully and then shrug.

_ Screw dignity, I’m crawling my way out of this. _

I tie my hair and crouch down, clutching my suitcase in my arms as I square my shoulders and solidify my resolve. Then, I begin the grueling crawl past (and occasionally  _ through _ ) people’s legs, searching for a clearing to escape too. 

But everywhere was just … angry, shouting bodies with no sign of stopping.

“Please back up!” I hear the porter yelling. ( _ I must be really close to the doors if I can hear him this well … _ ) “We’re trying to keep you safe!”

Just as he finishes shouting, the group in front of me starts taking a few steps back and their shoes catch my skirt.

The blood rushes from my face as I desperately try to yank the green fabric out from beneath them but the longer I’m stuck, the more people step closer and before I know it, I’m trapped by my own skirt.

_ I know I said screw dignity, but I can’t just leave my skirt! _

“Excuse me!” I shout, pulling pant legs and untying shoelaces, frantically trying to catch someone’s attention before I’m flattened like a pancake. “Person down here!”

No one seems to hear as they all get even closer and all I can think of are those Black Friday horror stories of people tripping on their way in and getting stampeded to death by fellow shoppers.

...

_ Nice job, Basil, you managed to make the situation worse! _

“H-Hey!” I try getting their attention again, but it’s no use. They’re too angry to notice the girl about to die at their feet,  _ by _ their feet.

_ Dear God, I’m sorry I never paid attention in church, if this is your divine punishment, I beg that you reconsider. _

The crowd gets rowdier and I cover my head with my suitcase, awaiting my pending doom.

_ Wait a gosh darn second … I have a suitcase! _

I begin to whack everyone’s shins as hard as I can with the clunky brown box and they all stagger away, leaving my skirt full of shoe prints but free of the weight! Before they can recover and look for the culprit, I make a run for it.

“COME BACK HERE YOU—”

I keep running through past people, shoving everyone out of the way and occasionally glancing back to ensure I have no pursuers—

“ _ Watch out! _ ”

Someone’s grabbing me by the wrist and I’m spinning. I close my eyes and start swinging my suitcase again, sure that it’s some angry person (with possibly bruised shins) here to throw me on the railroad tracks.

“H-Hey, stop!  _ Whoa,  _ stop trying to hit me!!!”

I pause for a moment, my eyes still shut tight.

“ _ Y’know, when someone saves your life, you shouldn’t try to attack them. _ ”

I hesitantly open one eye and I’m met by two women, one with piercing blue eyes and soft pink hair and the other with vivid green and deep brown.

My eyes widen when I realize I’m about to fall on the train tracks and the only thing keeping me from certain doom is the brown haired girl’s hand tightly gripping my wrist.

“Uhh …” A flustered blush creeps up my neck, “I’m so sorry I attacked you, please don’t drop me on the tracks!”

The women glance at each other, icy stares communicating probably one thing and one thing only. I gulp and shut my eyes again, sure that this time I’m  _ really  _ going to die.

_ At least my last meal was the train’s macaroni. That stuff’s to die for. _

“Calm down,” The pink-haired lady says as her friend helps me stand up properly. “Why would we save you just to throw you on the tracks anyway? That’d be a waste of time.”

I note the curtness in her voice but choose to ignore it as I sigh with relief, “Well, thank you. And I’m sorry for attacking you and your friend, I was in a bit of a jam not too long ago and I thought you were going to attack me first.”

“That’s alright!” The brown-haired lady responds with a shrug and the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. “The station  _ is _ quite a mess right now, so I don’t blame you for getting confused.”

I smile at how she bounces happily while she speaks only to realize moments later that she’s not bouncing,  _ but floating.  _

My jaw goes slack, “Hang on, wha … Umm, the ground …?” My tongue feels numb and I’m just blabbing stupidly for what feels like forever.

“What’s wrong?” The floating girl asks. “Never seen a Food Soul before?”


	3. Drinks Are On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepare to have your thirsts quenched, lmao~

My eyes go wider than dinner plates, “ _A what?_ ”

The floating girl tilts her head at me curiously, poised as if she’s going to ask something, but she’s interrupted by the crowd’s growing shouts.

“ _Where are the Master Attendants?!?_ ”

“ _We’ve been here forever!_ ”

The pink-haired lady frowns at the crowd and then turns to me, “Do you really want to know what this is all about?”

I nod, “Yes, I just moved here and I should be aware of what normally happens in this town.”

She pauses like she’s trying to measure my worth with just one look, “Are you _sure?_ Because once you know, there’s no going back.” Her eyes are sharp and threatening, almost like she’s trying to ward me off.

“Yes, I’m _sure_ ,” I say, summoning all the courage I could possibly muster and facing her gaze head-on.

“Right, then. Tiramisu?” She turns away from me to her friend, “Get her and let’s go.” Then she makes her way through the crowd with the regality of a queen walking to her throne.

“Aye, aye, Madame Olivia.” Her friend, the floating girl, Tiramisu (?) salutes her and scoops me up bridal-style.

“Umm, what are you doing?!?” I ask as we begin floating over the crowd and following the pink-haired lady, who Tiramisu referred to as Madame Olivia. “Where are we going?!?”

Tiramisu simply winks at me, “You’ll understand soon.”

“ _Master Attendant coming through!_ ” Madame Olivia calls out, her voice as sharp as a knife, and the crowd splits perfectly at her command.

“Finally! A Master Attendant!” Someone calls out, relieved.

“What the Hell took so long?!?” Another person shouts rudely.

Madame Olivia doesn’t even bat an eyelash at them, moving forward with such purpose and determination that it sends shivers down my spine.

We reach the doors in what feels like seconds and the train workers try to stop us.

But Madame Olivia flips her pink hair over her shoulder to reveal a singular, black shoulder plate engraved with the initials “G.O.” and a little skull, “Skeleton Guild, Level 163, Rank: General. Olivia Kokagan. Let us through and we’ll deal with the problem shortly.”

“Are these your Food Souls?” One of the train workers points to me and Tiramisu.

“Ummm, I’m not a—”

“ _Yes._ ” Madame Olivia shuts me up with one look, “This is Tiramisu and Nasi Lemak.”

The train workers squint at me and I wave awkwardly, still being carried bridal-style by Tiramisu.

“Let us pass.” Madame Olivia gestures at the crowd, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Do you _really_ want to keep them waiting?”

The train workers look to each other but eventually nod in agreement, “Alright, please take care of the Fallen Angels as quickly as possible, General Kokagan.”

Madame Olivia nods curtly, something akin to a smile barely gracing her lips as we make our way through the doors, “ _With pleasure._ ”

_What’s so important about these “Master Attendants” that they can leave during lockdowns? What do they attend? The Food Souls? Or those “Fallen Angel” things? What in the world is happening in Gloriville?!?_

Tiramisu puts me down after the station doors close behind us and somehow forges a huge decorative spoon from thin air. She twirls it around a bit, holding it more like a bō staff rather than an oversized eating utensil. “Which way, Madame Olivia?” she asks, a serious expression on her sweet face.

“Hang on, let’s get back-up first.” Madame Olivia fiddles with her glove gauntlet which surprisingly doubles as some communication device.

We stand in silence as she taps away.

… 

“So is anyone going to explain anything or am I just gonna … _whoa._ ”

Before us, three (of what I assume are) Food Souls begin to materialize, each being formed by swirls of colored liquids; The one on the left is pure white, the middle one brown and semi-translucent, and the last being dark brown, almost black.

“These are Food Souls,” Madame Olivia says, gesturing to the colored swirls in the air. She then points at them starting from the left and moving to the right, “Milk, Black Tea, and Coffee.”

As they begin to show up in a form similar to Tiramisu’s, Madame Olivia continues to explain, “Food Souls can be summoned and then contracted to help a chef in the kitchen _and_ in battle. What we battle, you may ask?”

Milk materializes first and answers Madame Olivia’s question in a monotone voice, “The Fallen Angels.” She’s a fairly young woman dressed like a milkmaid with pure white hair, dull grey eyes, a bored expression, and all topped off with cute little horns peeking out from her hair.

“Correct.” Madame Olivia nods at Milk and then continues, “Fallen Angels, commonly referred to as ‘the Fallen’, were created from the negative and evil energy of the God of Beginnings. They impose their will upon humanity and wreak havoc wherever they go.”

“But, _why_ do they cause trouble?” I ask, trying to keep up.

Black Tea materializes next and answers, “Because they are fueled by hunger, greed, and sin; Many of the things common to humans.” She looks around the same age as Milk ( _do Food Souls even have ages?_ ) with lovely black hair pulled back in a bun and glaring lilac eyes. Decked out in a tight-fitting, black evening gown with lace sleeves and killer black heels, she carries a matching black umbrella and has two pistols strapped to her exposed left leg. 

( _Wow, this tea is scalding hot._ )

“Precisely,” Madame Olivia responds. “The only thing keeping the world together is—”

“The bond between Food Souls and humanity.” The last Food Soul, Coffee, lazily lounges on the ground, sipping coffee straight from a coffee pot. He’s dressed like a businessman, a trench coat with slacks and suspenders, a red bow-tie, a blue scarf, dress shoes and matching socks, but his rounded sunglasses and the brown and white highlights in his blond hair give him more of a hipster feel. “Why are we going over this?”

Madame Olivia nudges him with her foot, “We have a guest. Best behavior, Coffee.”

Coffee glances up at me and his eyes seem to glow behind his sunglasses, “ _Oh > _” He gracefully floats to his feet and smirks at me. “Well hello there, little lady, what’s your name?”

He’s nearly two feet taller than me and I’m overwhelmed with the number of utterly impossible things I’ve seen and experienced in less than an hour of arriving in Gloriville. “B-B-Basil Evandore,” I splutter, feeling my brain starting to shut down due to information overload (and everyone being so inhumanely gorgeous).

Coffee takes my hand and leans down to kiss it as a true gentleman would, “ _I hope I can leave a lasting impression in your memories, Miss Evandore._ ” He looks up at me and winks, his voice having the same effect on me as storm clouds converging on the final frontier of a dramatic battle.

“Uh ... y-yeah, sure, Mr. Coffee, sir. Uh-huh,” I babble as my joints lock in place.

Coffee laughs and pats the top of my head, “I like her, she’s cute!”

Black Tea pulls Coffee back by his scarf, “Back off, Coffee, she’s already overwhelmed enough.”

“Oh come on, I was just trying to be polite,” Coffee says with a carefree smile. “That’s what Madame Olivia wanted, right?”

“ _That_ was you being flirtatious.” Black Tea glares at Coffee, reprimanding him like a mother to her child, “I know your games, Coffee. Please be more professional.”

Coffee pries his scarf from Black Tea’s hands, “Alright, alright, I was just trying to break the ice a bit, geez … Would it kill you to relax a bit?”

“May I remind you that we were called here for _duty_ ?” Black Tea spits back, handing her umbrella to Milk and crossing her arms. “There is a time and place for pleasantries and now is _certainly_ not the time.”

“Should _you_ really be telling me this?” Coffee scoffs as he fixes his scarf. “Because you rarely seem to take part in ‘pleasantries’, Black Tea. How could you tell me there’s ‘a time and a place’ when you, _yourself_ , don’t know that?”

I watch in silent horror as their discussion heats up. _Aren’t they supposed to be teammates?_

Milk sighs beside me, still holding Black Tea’s umbrella, “She should’ve left the umbrella in the guild hall.”

_What the Hell is happening anymore._

“Do either of you remember that we have a Fallen Angel to defeat?!?” Tiramisu shoves Black Tea and Coffee away from each other. “We’re here to fight _them,_ not each other! _Now make peace!_ ”

“ ... Does this happen all the time?” I ask Milk.

She shrugs, “More or less.”

“And where is Madame Olivia?” I look around to see she’s nowhere in sight.

“She went to find the Fallen Angel,” Milk responds absentmindedly, opening Black Tea’s umbrella and twirling it above her head.

I squint at Milk, “And you’re calm because???”

Milk shrugs again, “This usually happens. She summons us, Coffee and Black Tea get in a scuffle, she leaves to find the Fallen while Tiramisu brings the peace, and then the—”

We hear a loud crash and tons of screaming from inside the train station.

Milk nods, “Right on cue, Madame Olivia has brought the Fallen straight to us.”

“WAIT SHE WHAT—”

Looming above the train station is a gargantuan tentacle creature with rabid eyes and fiery orange hair. A snake-like tongue slithers out of its mouth and drools all over the station’s roof while the creature brandishes a huge fork in her (?) right hand. 

“ _J-Just one bite wouldn’t hurt, would it?_ ” She tilts her head in mock question and then leaps off the station’s roof, heading straight for us.

“ _It’s an Uke Mochi, you know what to do!_ ” Madame Olivia comes barreling through the tree line from behind, waving at us to move.

Coffee, Tiramisu, and Black Tea immediately rush off, jumping impossibly high into the air to combat the “ooh-key muh-ouchie” thing while Milk drags me back by the arm toward Madame Olivia. For such a frail looking girl, she’s _super_ strong.

“I need to get back in the train station!” I yell frantically, eyeing the battle about to start right in front of my only path of escape. “Please let me go, Milk!”

Milk merely twirls her umbrella, “No.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” I try to shake her off but to no avail, “Milk, I don’t want to die!”

She leaves me at Madame Olivia’s feet with a nonchalant “good luck then”, and then joins the other Food Souls, Black Tea’s umbrella steadily twirling above her head.

Madame Olivia offers her hand to help me up, “Come on, you asked for this and you’re getting the full experience. Be grateful.”

“I asked for an explanation, not a suicide mission!” I shout, ignoring her help and getting up on my own. “Where are we going to hide if not in the station? Because we sure as Hell are _not_ going to fight that thing!”

A lovely smirk graces Madame Olivia’s face, “ _Oh yes, we are._ ”

“ _Are you crazy?!?_ ” I ask incredulously. “ _We’ll die!!!_ ”

Madame Olivia purses her lips and takes five potion bottles filled with purple liquid and a matchbook from her bag, then places them in my hand. I swear I see madness glinting malevolently in her eyes, “Well then, we better get a head start on that.”

She runs toward the battle and I’m left, slack-jawed and scared out of my wits, to figure out what in Tierra to do with these potions and matches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love the secret agent Black Tea skin <3


	4. Food Fight!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basil learns the hard way :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !trigger warning: tentacles and emetophobia!

“Very funny, Madame Olivia!” I call after her, laughing nervously. “But what am I supposed to do with these?”

She’s too far away to hear me and I’m just standing there, watching the battle begin and praying I don’t get smooshed in the meantime. I look down at the matchbook and potions in my hand, rolling the smooth glass of the tiny, rounded bottles between my fingers. Do you drink them? Do you set them on fire?? Do you pour it on stuff???

_ To die or not to die, I wonder what fate will choose for me today. _

With an exaggerated sigh, I throw caution (and my suitcase) to the wind and charge into battle, armed only with the mysterious potions, matchbook, and my (extremely limited) wits.

The tentacle monster, “ooh-key muh-ouchie”, laughs hysterically as it slashes the air with its huge fork. Coffee and Black Tea dodge its attempts with ease, weaving in and out of the way in perfect, robotic-like synchronization.

Black Tea wields her twin pistols with utter precision, her bullets hitting their marks almost magnetically, and Coffee laughs as he plays the monster for a fool, using his magic coffee pot to let streams of coffee swirl through the air and surround the creature in an overwhelmingly bitter embrace that makes  _ me _ gag even from a fair distance away.

Milk and Tiramisu provide small distractions and healing aid from the sidelines, Milk still casually twirling Black Tea’s umbrella as Tiramisu concentrates heavily on wielding her bō staff-spoon.

I spot Madame Olivia covertly watching from a hidden alcove in the train station’s east wall. Glancing up tentatively at the tentacled behemoth, I hold my breath and scamper into the fray. I mentally sigh with relief as the monster turns in the direction opposite of me and I sprint the last few feet to the safety of Madame Olivia’s alcove.

“Nice to see you in one piece,” Madame Olivia jokes as I leap into the furthest corner of the minuscule space, holding my hands over my heart like it’s about to jump out and run away from me. “For a while there I thought you were going to run away.”

“For a sec … I thought so … too,” I say through staggered breaths. “But … I-I thought … why let your presents … go to waste?” I hold out the potions and matchbook, trying to smile despite the fact that I can’t breathe.

Madame Olivia laughs, “You sure are  _ something, _ kid … I think I’m starting to like you.”

“Thanks …” I wheeze. After a few more coughs and lots of gagging, I stand up straight and sigh as my lungs return to normal. “Now since I’m here and pretty much trapped, explain how to do this.”

Madame Olivia gets straight to the point, “The potions are for throwing, like grenades.  _ Don’t _ drink it,  _ don’t _ spill it on yourself or  _ anything _ near you,  _ don’t even open the bottle, just throw it. _ ”

I frown, “Isn’t that a waste of bottles?”

“ _ Do you want to die. _ ”

“Got it, keep’em closed.”

“Good girl. Next—” Madame Olivia snatches the matchbook from my hand and lights a match faster than I can even comprehend— “Matches are great for flicking, but you have to be quick or Uke will spot you and try to impale you.”

I feel my brain freeze at those words, “I … I’m sorry, what?”

“Uke Mochi, four-star threat index. Low intelligence but incredible power,” Madame Olivia rattles off the information like it’s the address of her childhood home. “Fallens, especially Uke, tend to aim for Master Attendants because no Master means no contract, no contract means  _ they— _ ” Madame Olivia points to Milk and Tiramisu, who are doing their best to play offense and defense at the same time— “Go back to where they were originally summoned from.”

“So if we go out there, it’ll aim for  _ us? _ ” Is all I grasp from her explanation.

“ _ Yes, _ so be quick. Throw your potions and run, flick a match and then run, keep moving or you die.” Madame Olivia places three more potion bottles and another matchbook in my hands. “Hide if you can, but it’s best to keep moving.”

I nod awkwardly, feeling a teensy, tiny bit overwhelmed but unsure of how to deal with it, “Umm, ok, I guess. Sounds easy enough, heck, it almost sounds fun.”

“That’s the spirit!” Madame Olivia smiles at me and I can’t tell if she read my intonation properly, “Good luck, and again,  _ keep moving. _ ”

With a hasty salute, Madame Olivia ducks out of our alcove and again, I’m left alone and very confused. I go through our quick conversation again in my head, reviewing all the most important things I can remember.

_ Keep moving, don’t open the bottles, it aims for you, keep moving, matches attract attention, be quick to flick, don’t open the bottles, keep moving, keep moving, keep moving … _

The Uke Mochi (good to know how to pronounce it) roars and I cringe as I watch its tentacles writhe and ruin the lovely green grass surrounding the train station.

_ If I’m not careful, that will be me. _

I take a deep breath, tighten my ponytail, and take a sharp right on my way out of the alcove, opposite of Madame Olivia’s route moments before me.

Uke Mochi is still facing the opposite direction of me, still trying to swat Coffee and Black Tea out of the sky, and I look around for a place of higher ground. Maybe a hill? Or a tree? Or just, some place where I won’t have to be eye level with these tentacles?!?

“BASIL, MOVE!” I hear someone shout just in time to see the Uke Mochi smiling down at me.

_ Flipping frying pans … _

I take a quick count of the skies and notice Black Tea and Coffee have disappeared.  _ No, they couldn’t have been … Could they? _

The Uke Mochi crawls closer and I shake my head and start sprinting again, cursing myself under my breath for stopping to think after running for barely three seconds.

“ _ C _ o _ m _ e  _ b _ a _ c _ k _! _ ” The Uke Mochi calls and I hear the heavy thumps of its tentacles speed up behind me.

I cringe and run faster, “NOPE. NUH-UH. SCREW THAT. NOT TODAY, SATAN.”

“ _ A _ w _ w _ , d _ o _ n’ _ t _ b _ e _ l _ i _ k _ e _ t _ h _ a _ t  _ … ” The Uke Mochi leans down as it follows me, its huge face pulling up right beside me as I run, “ _ You can’t escape anyway. _ ” Its forked tongue slobbers across the grass and I nearly slip on the icky substance.

I can feel myself start to cry but I remember the potion bottles and just go for it.

“I sAiD nOt ToDaY!” I take one of the bottles and chuck it as hard as I can into the monster’s eye.

“ _ RAAAAAAGHHHH! _ ” The creature roars and veers closer as the potion takes effect right away.

_ OH, SHEEP! _

I drop to the ground as its head sweeps the space above me, sending chills of realization down my spine. I check the bottles, making sure they aren’t cracked or leaking, and scramble to my feet.

_ KEEP MOVING, BASIL, KEEP MOVING! _

I glance back at the monster when I feel far enough and nearly trip at the sight.

Its eye is smoking purple and covered in several, severe burns. I watch, horrified, as it twitches violently and retrains its focus on me. The Uke Mochi merely grins and raises its fork menacingly.

_ Hot fudge, I’m screwed. _

“ _ W _ e _ l _ l  _ w _ a _ s _ n’ _ t  _ t _ h _ a _ t n _ i _ c _ e  _ o _ f  _ y _ o _ u _ .” It barks a dry laugh and catches up to me with ease. It leans down behind me, breathing heavily and its breath reeks of decay. (I can  _ feel _ my hair start to frizz.) “B _ u _ t  _ t _ h _ a _ t’ _ s _ e _ n _ o _ u _ g _ h _ o _ f _ y _ o _ u _ r  _ g _ a _ m _ e _ s,  _ M _ a _ s _ t _ e _ r  _ A _ t _ t _ e _ n _ d _ a _ n _ t _ !”

A huge shadow falls over me and I just know, without evening looking, that in a few moments I’ll be swallowed whole by a creepy tentacle monster that smells like death.  _ Right here and now. _

“ _ It ends here! _ ”

My eyes widen when Black Tea suddenly appears in front of me, rushing forward with pistols drawn. She leaps right over me in a perfect arc and straight into the monster’s mouth. My jaw drops and despite my fear, I stop running and face the monster.

_ Why would she jump in its mouth?!? What is her plan?!? What is happening?!? _

“ _ Well hello there! _ ” I turn just in time to see Coffee swoop in and take me airborne by the waist. “Nice distracting skills, Miss Evandore.”

“You were using me as a  _ distraction _ ?!?” I ask, clinging tightly to his arms as I try to see the commotion below us. “And what about Black Tea?!?”

“ _ AAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUU! _ ” The Uke Mochi roars in agony and I feel my stomach drop as we get higher and Black Tea doesn’t show.

Coffee laughs, “Oh, no, she’s fine. This has happened before.”

“What?!?”

“Now’s not the time for reminiscing anyway. Here.” Coffee lands on the roof of the train station, “Madame Olivia says you’ve done enough, so stay here until the battle’s over, ok?”

He puts me down and even though I’m relieved at the break, something inside me wants to get back out there. “Well I … I can still help, right?” I ask, looking up at Coffee with the softest puppy dog eyes I can manage.

Before Coffee can respond, the Uke Mochi screeches and pounds its hand against the station’s wall to steady itself. I jump and Coffee takes a swig from his coffee pot.

He laughs despite the possible peril we’re in and ruffles my hair, “Not my decision, I’m just following orders.” With that, he darts back into the battle and I’m tempted to shout at him to come back.

I shut my mouth though when I remember Madame Olivia’s words, “ _ it aims for you _ ”.

… Begrudgingly, I sit behind the small rail wall on the edge of the roof, watching the battle that isn’t so much a battle anymore.

The Uke Mochi is doubled over, hand still on the wall, as it gags and retches with a mix of unholy screeching and roaring inbetween. Coffee makes its situation worse by bringing out the intensely bitter coffee again and I now understand why they didn’t want me down there.

_ It’s so I don’t get puked on and drown in the bodily fluids of a human-eating monster. _

How nice.

The Uke Mochi retches one final time before Black Tea bursts from its throat, covered in … whatever’s inside a monster like that, and instead of throwing up through its mouth,  _ all eight of its tentacles flood the lawn and I’m hit with the horrifying realization that those aren’t just tentacles— _

**_They’re mouth tentacles._ **

… 

_ Yep, I think I’m gonna puke too. _

“Keep it together, Miss Evandore.” Milk floats up from the ground holding Black Tea’s umbrella like a less enthusiastic Mary Poppins, “You look even paler than me.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m trying my best but  _ that— _ ” I turn away from the horrific scene, covering the lower half of my face with my sleeves— “Is  _ beyond _ disgusting.”

Milk twirls her umbrella beside me and helps me up, “This is only mild, Miss Evandore.”

“Oh, well that’s neat!” I remark, feeling even queasier and my knees buckle slightly at the mere thought.

“ _ I _ -I _ -I _ t’ _ s  _ n _ o _ t  _ o _ v _ e _ r  _ y _ e _ t …  _ ” I hear the monster mutter weakly until three solid gunshots ring through the air, followed by a loud thud.

_ No, it is totally over, Uke Mochi. _

“Great work today!” I look up to see Tiramisu carrying Madame Olivia in from the battle. She sets Madame Olivia down and I marvel at her ability to stay completely intact after such an encounter, not a single pink hair out of place. (It looks like I fell down the stairs seven times while she modeled for a magazine cover.)

“I think that I can do better.” Black Tea and Coffee join us, both covered in monster puke.

Milk nearly makes a face at the two Food Souls, but the notion disappears as quick as it came. “How are you both covered in puke if Black Tea was the only one to go in?” She asks, closing Black Tea’s umbrella and tucking it under her arm.

Coffee glares at Black Tea, “ _ She  _ happened.”

I laugh behind my sweater sleeves, “Ha, serves you right!”

“Alright everyone, calm down.” Tiramisu smiles warmly at all of us, “We have defeated the Fallen and now we can continue our day in peace!” She floats happily as her giant bō staff-spoon dissipates into nothingness.

Madame Olivia turns to me, her eyes bright and proud, “Nice job, Basil. And sorry for dragging you into all this so suddenly, I just had some sort of feeling that you’d be up to the challenge.”

“Guess you were right,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for this experience, Madame Olivia.”

“Now that we’re off duty—” Coffee takes off his puke covered sunglasses and raises an eyebrow at me— “What brought you to Gloriville, Miss Evandore?”

My smile grows wider, “Well, I came to open a restaurant!”


End file.
